I refuse to look at the weather forecast and I am choosing to ignore the clouds being blown across the blue sky by the increasing winds. If I don’t see them then I can assume that this sunny weather will go on for another day. Just one more day.
I stand in the sunshine on our unfinished deck, in front of our unfinished renovations and I close my eyes and will it to be spring… bugger that… I will it to be summer.
I wish with all my might for it to be a hot sunny afternoon in late December.
I can feel the warm summer sun on me. I can smell the summer smells. I can hear the summer noises. I can see summer on the inside of my closed eye lids and it looks glorious.
I realise that I am wishing for more than just warm weather.
I am wishing for that magic summer place. A place where the veggie garden has weeded, sown and watered itself into glorious abundance. A place where the renovations are magically complete. A place where my children are all magically happy and content and dinner cooks itself. A place where I have nothing else to do but sit on my back deck and soak up the loveliness that is a magic summer.
I open my eyes to discover I haven’t quite managed it. It is still winter…. a sunny afternoon, almost spring… but still winter.
My magic summer place is still just a dream…. perhaps a ridiculously impossible dream, but hey, a girl’s gotta dream about something, right?